Light of the Past
by AmasterWolf
Summary: Just a story my friend came up with- set a couple of months before Boromir departs to Rivendell :) Please Review
1. Lest we forget

Chapter 1 – Lest we forget

''Captain, Lord Denethor requires your presence in the throne room.''  
''Thank you Beregand, I shall leave immediately.''Indilwen moved away from the window and followed Beregand out of her chambers. It was a beautiful morning in Gondor. The sun was shining through milky white clouds and the late summer wind carried the smell of strawberries. Since all the rangers, soldiers and their captains have returned it was time for another meeting of the council. It was a time of worry as with each month the news grew grim and fewer men would return than had left the city. Indilwen led a company of rangers which patrolled the northernmost woods of Ithilien, close to the south borders of Rohan.  
''How many captains this time Beregand?'' – She asked in a quiet, thoughtful voice. ''Twenty have returned, my lady. Captain Martell and Captain Anardil are amongst the dead.'' – Replied Beregand. He was one of the Tower Guard and a messenger to Lord Denethor. An old man who had served his country well. Beregand commanded to open the door to the throne room. Inside, the Lord Steward sat on his high chair right below the throne. Next to him sat his sons, Boromir – Captain of the White Tower and Faramir – Captain of the Rangers of Ithillien, each clad according to their posts. Alongside the long table sat other captains of lesser office and advisors to Lord Denethor.  
''Lady Indilwen, Captain of the Grey Cloaks.''- Announced Beregond in his high voice. Indilwen walked towards her place at the table. She was the only female captain and she knew that some of the other captains had seen her as unfit to command. ''My lord.'' – She bowed, - ''All quiet on the northern borders. We saw only two bands of Mordor Orcs trying to pass through the woods and both of them have been destroyed. No casualties this time however I do have a couple of wounded in my company. They will be ready for duty by the time we next move out.''  
''I am impressed Indilwen. It is good to hear that at least our northern borders are safe. Other captains have not brought tidings as hopeful as yours.'' Lord Denethor paused deep in thought on the news.  
'' How much longer do we have to wait father? We should protect Osgiliath at all costs; we cannot surrender our strongest defence. The northern and western borders are guarded but we will not stand much longer if we lose the crossing''- argued Boromir. He was a tall man, dark haired and grey eyed. A great warrior, respected not only by the people of Gondor, but by all who heard the tales of his victories.  
''Brother please, let us not hasten. What if this is a trap? We must consider all options…''  
''Faramir my son!'' – Interrupted Lord Denethor. - ''We have lingered too long already and let Sauron amass his allies from Umbar. To have a chance of winning this war we must strike now. Boromir, take whatever companies you require and fortify Osgiliath. This is my will and it shall be done.'' – He commanded.  
''With your leave father I would like to call on my brother and his company, Captains Hirgon and Hirluin and their Blue Wings, Captain Duilin and his Eagles. And if she consorts, Captain Indilwen and her Grey Cloaks.'' At this, the hall was filled with whispers and murmurs. Everyone was looking at Indilwen, wondering if she will join Boromir's forces. She had never been in a defensive combat. Her style was to hunt and trap any that trespassed Gondor's borders without leave, quickly and quietly.  
''My lord Boromir I do not understand. There are other captains in this hall who have more experience in defence strategies.'' – questioned Indilwen, blushing slightly, her heart beating with excitement. It was a high honour to be in either Prince's company.  
''I shall require your presence as outrider. You are renowned for not letting any of the enemy's scouts through, we shall be in need of your help. The riverbanks are crawling with orcs and Corsairs. I have put my mind to sending you and Faramir to hunt down any enemy north east of Osgiliath. If all goes well we will not be under attack until spring.''- said Boromir. He knew that she was one of the best, and so did the rest of the captains. They would say nothing however because she was a woman of 28 years who had joined the Gondor's armies quicker than any man.  
''As my lord commands. My company is ready for duty.'' – replied Indilwen.  
''Very well. Let us not waste time. All of the companies summoned are to be ready at dawn. That would be all.'' – Announced Lord Denethor. He was the first to leave the throne room. Surprisingly this time he had not spoken to anyone but rushed back to his tower.  
Indilwen sent Beregand to inform her company of the orders sent by the Lord Steward. She had never been as happy as when she was away, ranging. By the time the hall had emptied, she was already long gone back to her chambers. With the morning gone by, Indilwen let herself get ready for tomorrow's journey. She picked her dark brown leather tunic and boots, grey-green breeches and that famous grey cloak. Her backpack was already full of equipment she would need, maps, tinderboxes, dried food and water skins. Her bow and quiver lay next to two long silver knives engraved with golden filigree of vines and flowers – elven weaponry. When she was finished packing she stood in front of her mirror. Light ginger hair was flowing in elven plaits down her back, well past her shoulders. Blue eyes reflected every speck of light and glowed like two large sapphires. A tiny bit of freckles covered her nose and the apples of her cheeks. At 5'6'', she was the shortest ranger but it did not stop her to become one of the best there ever was. Her ears resembled those of elves, just like her mother's did.  
Indilwen's parents were killed 18 years ago during a wildling raid on the village of Brema, where she was born. Her mother, Elwing who was half elf - half human, was stabbed by the leader of the wildlings. Her father, Horgim who was half dwarf – half human, was dead too however she did not witness his death. At the time of the attack she was with her mother gathering flowers just outside of the village whereas her father along, with her sister was in the orchard gathering ripe fruit off the trees. She managed to escape after a village guard had taken her on horse and rode with her to Minas Tirith, where his brother Damord lived. Damrod took Indilwen as his daughter and raised her up from the age of ten. Oftentimes, she would dream of the day her family was killed and the village was burned to the ground. She could recall her mother's warm laugh and soft hands that picked the purple flowers from the meadow, her father's beard and how it tickled her cheeks whenever he would pick her up. There was one however that she could not remember, it was her sister. She did not remember her name or her face. All she had left after her was a wolf's tooth pendant. No one was able to tell her what happened to her sister as her body was never found. Many had told her that the wildlings probably took her or that she ran away but died of thirst and hunger, somewhere in the green seas of Rohan.


	2. Old ends and new beginnings

Chapter 2 – Old ends and new beginnings

Midnight breeze was all she could wish for. It made the trees sing their autumn song. Summer was at an end and soon all would turn from emerald green to gold.  
''Mother Earth sings. It is time for Luna to go back to horse men.'' – Ghan-buri-Ghan emerged from the shadows and took his place on a high rock jutting out of the hilly clearing. From this place all of the Druadan forest could be seen. It glimmered in the moonlight and swayed this way and that in rhythm with the wind.  
''I am not ready. I like it here, will you not let me stay?'' - asked Luna. She had stayed with the Druedain for as long as she could remember. They had raised her up and taught her many things. ''Mother Earth sings. Wake up, hear her call. Open your eyes.'' – he said. ''But my eyes are open! What am I to see, what am I to hear? Where am I to go?''  
'' You look but you do not see. Follow wind, river, moon. Mother Earth sings.'' – Ghan-buri-Ghan fell silent and listened to the howling of the wolves in the distance. He was the chief of the Druedain. His people believed that he could hear the tidings in the wind, see them in the sky. He was of short but sturdy build with leaves in his dark, tangled hair. His black eyes held the mysteries of the forest. As Luna stood next to him, she wondered why Ghan-buri-Ghan took her in when she was litte. She did not remember much of her past, only short and unclear flashbacks that came to her in dreams. He explained to her that he had found her wandering through the Druadan forest alone, almost on the brink of death, holding on to a wolf's tooth pendant. He brought her back to his forest house and tended to her wounds and her hunger. Since she could not recall her name, he called her Luna, for he found her at the night of the full moon. That was more than ten years ago and now it was time for her to go back home, her real home.  
A couple of hours passed before Ghan-buri-Ghan left his rock and walked back with Luna, into the forest and towards the village. It was almost dawn, a break of a new day. Cold dew washed the weariness off her feet as she walked barefoot on the forest floor, her head hung low, full of thoughts. She did not know much about the world outside nor did she know anyone who would help her in the grassy plains. For the last decade, she had lived in peace with nature. The Druedain had taken her in and taught her how to hunt and use her strength. She was not tall for a human, only 5'4'' but she was surprisingly strong for a woman of her age and stature. Her hair was a copper brown shade that matched her emerald green eyes, both colours of autumn.  
Ghan-buri-Ghan's forest house looked nothing more than a straw hut sticking out from a side of a massive oak. Inside, however was full of little jars with soil, seeds and roots of all kind. On the right, there was a mat made out of leaves and slender branches and on the left, adjacent to the tree was a little carved out space. The Druedain used those as shrines to communicate with forest spirits.  
When both of them entered the house, the smell of herbs and flowers escaped from the inside. Her bag was ready, she however was not.  
''Will I ever see you again?'' – She asked in a quiet voice.  
''Ghan-buri-Ghan does not know. Maybe, after many suns set, the paths shall join again. Only Mother Earth knows but she does not tell.'' – replied Ghan-buri-Ghan. He walked over to the hollowed out place in the tree and reached for a wolf tooth pendant hanging above the opening. He grabbed Luna's hand and wrapped it around her wrist. - ''Remember the Druedain. Remember the forest.'' Luna looked at the short burly man in front of her and embraced him in her arms. She did not cry for she knew, deep down in her heart that she would see him again. She picked up her bag and left what had been her home and headed north-west.


	3. Deadly Darkness

Chapter 3 – Deadly darkness

All the defences were in place, archers on top of the ruined towers, cavalry deeper inside the rubbles of this lost city called Osgiliath. What was once the capital of the kingdom was now nothing more than an empty, lifeless place that was the key to crossing the Anduin. It had been more than two weeks since Boromir and his forces joined the watchers left behind. The shadow had grown yet again, taking away light that gave so much hope. For Indilwen, this tension had become almost unbearable. She knew that something was coming yet wherever she looked, she could only see men jesting and drinking ale. They were happy for a little peace and quiet they had had since the last attack. Only Faramir seemed to be sharing her fears. The sun was slowly setting and it was time for the scouts to come back and report their findings.  
''Nothing on the eastern bank, captain. There is no sign of any movements whatsoever.'' – reported older out of the two scouts that had returned. ''Well maybe the mighty Sauron is scared? We have our captain Boromir back with us, none shall stand in our path!'' – boasted the younger one. All the men took up the cheer and were happy once more. They had enough of war, death and everything else that came with it. ''This is good news. Father will be pleased Faramir. We have taken back what is rightfully ours without shedding a drop of blood.'' – He turned back to his men – ''Go now! Go and enjoy the rest of the day! Wash away your fears and weariness.''  
''Captain, something is wrong. Why would Sauron withdraw his forces so suddenly? There is mischief at work here and the shadow is coming.'' – said Indilwen. ''You should not worry my lady, I have not dropped my guard. Osgiliath is protected day and night and it will not be taken away from us again.'' – replied Boromir in his proud voice. He had always been so sure of his actions and did not heed much to advice of his captains. She knew there was no point in putting her point forward. Not to him in the least. She left the city square where most of the soldiers had been stationed and walked towards the half-burned library and there she had found whom she was looking for.  
''Captain Faramir, forgive me if I interrupt but I am at unease. It has been quiet, too quiet yet no one seems to take notice.'' Faramir bid her to enter further into the library where he was looking at the remains of ''_The Lineage of Kings and Queens of the Kingdom of Gondor_''. ''I understand your unrest for I myself am anxious. My dear brother will not listen to anyone. His pride forbids him from doing so but I fear we shall be put to the test soon enough.'' He put the book away and walked towards Indilwen. She had always blushed slightly whenever he was around. He was so much different to his brother, it was sometimes hard to believe that those two were related. Boromir had been more tempered and quick to anger, believing that a weapon was the best tool for negotiations. Faramir however was a complete opposite, the two brothers as different from each other as ice and fire. Indilwen had admired him for his calm and steady mind and for his selflessness and kindness that he so often showed to his people. He was the only one who treated her as an equal. ''Indilwen, my dearest friend there is nothing we can do but wait. You know my brother as well as anyone else, he is stubborn and he will not change his mind once he has set on a decision.'' – said Faramir, his voice warm and full of understanding. The sun had set and the pale silver moon could already be seen through a curtain of vines that overgrew holes in the broken roof of the library. Chilly air had brought a promise of a peaceful night but little do they knew, that the night was to be dark and full of terrors.

''_Harooooooooooooooo!_'' the horns blew and pierced the air as well as the soldiers' hearts. Indilwen grabbed Faramir by his arm and ran with him towards the centre of the encampment. Before they got there Boromir had already caught up with them. ''They are coming! They have hidden their boats down the river and are now coming out in their hundreds. Brother, I will need you and Indilwen to support the archers on top of the roofs in the southern part of the city. Take all the men from your company and if you can, find me Hirgon and send his company to the banks.'' – He waited no longer and rushed towards the heat of the battle. There was confusion all over the camp. None of the men suspected a surprise attack when all was quiet on the eastern front. The smell of blood had already hung heavy in the air. ''Bergon, gather all the arrows you can find. Angbor, go and find Captain Hirgon, send him to join Captain Boromir at the river banks, the rest follow me.'' – shouted Indilwen. She led her company towards the ruined towers. The path was already filled with dead bodies, unfortunate men that were shot by orcish poisoned arrows. Faramir and his company followed hers close behind. When they had gone up the steps and took their positions, all they could see from the battlements was the river Anduin aglow from the torches carried on tiny little black rafts. She notched her arrow and aimed at a particularly big orc covered in steel from head to toe, apart from one opening at his side, right below his ear. That was her target. When the orc swung his spiked mace, he exposed his weak point right to her. She didn't hesitate and released the arrow. It had hit the mark. The orc fell to the ground with a massive thud, crashing two of his kind underneath his vile body. ''Good shot my lady'' – pointed out Faramir with a smile on his face while he himself shot down three of the enemy. ''Well sire, you are not too bad yourself'' –said Indilwen quite proud of herself.


End file.
